


Afterward

by Lenore



Category: L.A. Confidential (1997)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Dubious Consent, M/M, Missing Scene, Porn Battle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-22
Updated: 2013-01-22
Packaged: 2017-11-26 12:26:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/650510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lenore/pseuds/Lenore
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Matt loses his nerve after all, and Jack finds a way to encourage him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Afterward

**Author's Note:**

> There is mention of dubious consent.

Jack doesn't know why he stays. He's done his bit. Has shaken all the right hands. Smiled all the right smiles. Sid Hudgens doesn't give him orders, and he's nobody's babysitter. From the looks of things, Matt's doing fine on his own, the D.A. practically eating out of his hand. Jack doesn't have to stand here nursing his drink, watching the kid craft his own ruin one flirtatious glance at a time. 

D.A. Loew drifts closer, meeting Matt smile for smile. He reaches out to touch the sleeve of Matt's jacket as if he's emphasizing a point, anything to get his greedy fingerprints on the kid. It's all too easy to see the calculation in those small, beady eyes, nothing the least bit subtle about him. 

Not that Jack has room to judge, of course. Everyone has their temptations. Jack's return to Vice has thrown his own weaknesses back in his face, a parade of memories he'd just as soon forget. All those fresh-faced kids who come on the bus with their big dreams—how many of them end up in some shadowy corner of a filthy alley with their pants pulled down or their skirts hiked up, doe-eyed with fear when a cop's flashlight catches them breaking section 647(b) of the California penal code, _oh God, what will they think back home_ shining out of their faces brighter than any movie marquee. 

Jack was a real friend to those poor kids, quick with a reassuring pat to the shoulder and a kind word, and after some very serious deliberation a suggestion for how they might make the whole thing go away. In an even more shadowy corner of the alley salvation could be earned with an eager mouth tight around Jack's cock. The kicker was, they were always so relieved afterward. Some of them actually said thank you. 

In this town, only takers survive, and Hollywood Jack is nothing if not a survivor. 

This kid, though—he's got "prey" written all over him with his open, soft-eyed looks. D.A. Loew is all grab, no charm, getting his hands and his hot breath all over the kid even with a room full of people watching. It comes as no kind of surprise when the kid rabbits, forcing a smile, mumbling something that Jack can't make out and making a beeline for the men's room. Loew stares at the empty air in front of him, looking both affronted and confused by how his sure thing could have gone so wrong. 

Jack manages not to roll his eyes, but it's a close thing. He sorts through his options. His first impulse is to leave the kid alone, let him hide out in the bathroom until he's worked up the courage to sneak out the back way. But he's got that fifty-dollar bill burning in his pocket, a reminder that he has to earn his ill-gotten retirement fund. And then a different kind of possibility occurs to him. Funny thing about being a taker, it makes giving seem like a veritable luxury.

Hollywood Jack does love his luxuries.

The kid's bent over the sink, splashing water on his face and staring at himself in the mirror as if he has no idea how he got here. Jack winces in sympathy. He knows that feeling. He has it more often these days than he'd like.

"Hey, how are you doing?" 

The kid shakes his head. "I can't. I'm sorry. I tried thinking about it like an acting job, but I just—" 

Jack nods. "Yeah, real life is a lot harder than pretend. But the thing is, it's not like you're going to do anything all that different from what you usually do. That's the trick, to think about the things you like. You know what you like, don't you, Matt?" 

He's been moving closer with every word, and now he's standing so far inside the kid's space that he can feel the heat from his body, the rush of his breath.

The kid blinks at him with his wide blue eyes. His lips are soft and pink, and he licks at them nervously, innocent of how that looks. "Yeah. I guess so."

Jack smiles his smooth, silky _trust me_ smile. "You like this, don't you?" He slides his hand along the kid's jaw, tilts his head, and kisses him, deep and thorough. The kid freezes at first, but then slowly starts to kiss back, tongue coming out to play, hand settling almost shyly onto Jack's shoulder.

The kid's eyes are even wider, the expression in them softly stunned when Jack pulls back. He tilts his head, giving the kid a questioning look. Matt admits in a small, scratchy voice, "Yeah, I liked that."

Jack nods. "And this, I'm pretty sure you like this." He drags his hand down the kid's chest, past his belt, and settles his palm over his cock. 

The kid sucks in an audible breath. Shock flashes across his face followed by a knowing sort of heat.

"Yes, I thought so," Jack says, stroking and squeezing, feeling the kid's cock starting to rise against his palm. "And who doesn't like this?" He flicks open the kid's belt, pushes his underwear down past his hips and settles onto his knees with cool swagger. 

"What—" The sound ends in a cut-off little sigh as Jack tongues the head of his cock. 

It's been quite a while since Jack was involved in a blowjob without being on the receiving end of it, and he needs a moment to get his bearings, remember the trick of breathing through his nose, coordinate his tongue work. The kid's not exactly a connoisseur, though. All he needs is a willing mouth, and soon enough he's clutching at Jack's shoulders and biting his lip to keep from making too much noise.

Jack remembers enough about giving head to pull off before the kid comes and finishes him with his hand, strategically positioning his handkerchief to save both their clothes.

The kid is panting, sweat glistening on his forehead, flushed everywhere Jack can see. He makes no move to zip himself up, so Jack does it for him when he gets to his feet. 

"See? That's all it is." He holds the kid's chin and kisses him again, even deeper and longer than before, letting him taste himself in Jack's mouth. "Just doing what you like."

The kid's eyes flutter. He looks dazed and almost painfully innocent. Jack turns to go.

"Hey," the kid calls after him. "Maybe we could—you know, afterward."

Jack just smiles. Afterward, the kid will hate his guts. He'll know Jack for what he really is, a taker willing to do anything, screw anyone for some cash and a little taste of the limelight, even ruin a kid whose only mistake is to dream too big.

Afterward, Jack knows, it will be far too late.


End file.
